


don't let your shadow spoil the view

by Calex



Series: The Other Woman [1]
Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calex/pseuds/Calex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eduardo hurts, hurts that with just one call it's all over, that this fantasy he's been living in is ending, because he's too much of a coward to tell his father no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't let your shadow spoil the view

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/gifts).



> _I can see you're somewhere far away  
>  Caught in another place  
> Where nothings going right  
> Shouldn't worry about  
> The worst that could be  
> When you're here beside me _  
> ~Today The Sun's On Us - Sophie Ellis-Bextor

"You've been in Singapore too long," his father says one day, a phone call out of the blue four months after not hearing from the man directly at all. "It's time for you to come home and settle down."

Eduardo knows that it's an order, and he bites his lip as he looks down into Mark's sleeping face, holding onto his cell phone in a white knuckled grip. Mark's face is relaxed in sleep, mussed curls falling into his face and Eduardo hurts, hurts that with just one call it's all over, that this fantasy he's been living in is ending, because he's too much of a coward to tell his father no.

By the time Mark wakes up, Eduardo's things have been packed up, and he's on a flight back to São Paulo, where his parents are waiting with his new fiancé. It's another cowardly move, but Eduardo doesn't know how to say good-bye. He doesn't know how to want it, not with Mark.

He doesn't even leave a note.

* * *

Eduardo changes his phone number, blocks Mark's email, and doesn't tell Dustin or Chris the address of his new home. He tells no one except for those who really need to know. Somehow, though, he's still not surprised when he opens his door two months later and finds Mark on the other side, dripping with rain, looking lost and helpless and betrayed.

Part of Eduardo can't help but think "good, now he knows how it feels". It's a part of him that gets quickly squashed, but it's lingering niggle at the back of his mind. The second thing that occurs to him is "I have a wife. I'm married. I can't do this anymore". But it's an excuse that won't stick, because Eduardo's already stepping aside, holding the door open, and calculating that it'll take his wife four hours to get back home that day. That's more than enough time.

Mark's on him the moment the door closes. His mouth presses to Eduardo's hot and desperate and wet with rain. Eduardo ignores the taste of salt on his lips, on his tongue as he pushes into Mark's mouth, because it's easier for him to just think that it's the rain, not tears. Because the thought of Mark shedding any tears for him is like a blow to the stomach with a nine iron. Mark's hands are clutching at his collar in a tight, desperate grip, like he doesn't want to let Eduardo go, but Eduardo's got the back of Mark's hoodie in a similar grip. He doesn't have any room to speak.

When they finally pull back, they're both panting and flushed and Eduardo's clothes are damp and sticking to his skin uncomfortably. All he can notice, though, is the tremble in Mark's fingers as he unbutton Eduardo's shirt and pushes it off his shoulders, the tremor in his lips as he presses kisses along Eduardo's collarbone.

He's reluctant to pull back, but Eduardo's insistently tugging at his own clothes and they finally separate long enough for Mark to pull off his own hoodie and t-shirt in one go, and Eduardo's quickly stripping off his slacks, glad he doesn't wear shoes indoors. Mark takes longer, and when he's done, Eduardo takes his hand, fingers tangling, and leads him to the bedroom. He leaves their clothes lying in a haphazard mess on the floor of the entryway. There's a chance that his wife might be back earlier, and it's almost a visceral thrill to think of her coming home and finding his clothes scattered, knowing that he's in their bed, fucking the man who had his heart years before he ever met her and was forced to take her as his wife.

Mostly, though, he's only thinking of the way Mark feels, pressed against him. All he's thinking of is Mark's fingers skimming over his chest, his stomach, wrapping around his cock. He's only thinking of the way Mark looks when he pushes him down on the bed, pale skin and dark hair and wide, hurt, desperate, needy eyes that stay locked on Eduardo as Eduardo straddles his face and fucks into his mouth. He's only thinking of Mark's nails digging crescent shaped marks on his hips as he tugs him closer, like he can't get enough.

He pulls out before he comes, because it's been two months, two _hellish_ months of smiling and pretending that everything is fine when his heart feels like it's being ripped apart every second he's away from Mark, when every moment he spends in _wedded bliss_ with someone he doesn't even want, all he's thinking of is dark curls and darker eyes and fingers flying over a keyboard, tapping out swift lines of code. It's been too months and Eduardo's too impatient, needs too much to be buried inside Mark's heat again, reassert what's _his_ to come down his throat.

There will be time for that later. Eduardo will make time, somehow.

Instead, he pushes Mark down and reaches inside his bedside table for the bottle of lube he keeps there, because maybe some part of him has been hoping, praying, needing to see Mark again. He pours the lube onto his fingers carelessly, ignoring the slip and slide of it down his wrist as he coats his fingers. He's only got so far as to push Mark's thighs open when Mark stops him by catching his wrist. Eduardo's breath catches, stops, as he watches Mark bring his arm to his mouth and clean the lube from Eduardo's wrist and halfway down his arm with his tongue. Mark's eyes are locked on his the entire time and Eduardo really, really can't wait anymore.

"I'm going to fuck you," he says, quietly, intently. Watches Mark's eyes darken to black, mouth slick and red and swollen from Eduardo's cock drop open and breaths panting out hot against Eduardo's skin.

"What are you waiting for?" Mark demands, and his thighs spread open. Eduardo gets with the program, stroking over Mark's hole with just the tips of his fingers, getting him used to it again. When he feels Mark relax, he pushes in with a finger, groaning at the tight heat that grips him. His eyes squeeze shut as he immediately adds a second, stretching and stroking Mark on the inside until Mark's pushing back against his fingers, hips riding him, head falling back on a moan. Eduardo adds a third finger to be safe, and also because he just wants to feel Mark open around his fingers, hungry for him. He does it because he wants to hear Mark bite out sharp curses, squeezing his fingers tight and sucking him in deep. He slides a hand down the inside of Mark's thigh, hears the breathy cry that he's been hearing in his dreams for two months, recognizing the signs of Mark's arousal that has had him waking up hard and wanting night after night. He leans down and drags his tongue all the way up to the inside of Mark's knee, tasting skin and salt and hears Mark's breathing stutter, feels him clenching around Eduardo's fingers.

Eduardo smiles and runs his teeth there to hear it again, waiting until -

" _Wardo_ ," Mark says, wrecked, and Eduardo surges up, pushes Mark's knee to his chest and slips his fingers out to coat his cock in leftover lube. It has to be enough, because Eduardo doesn't think he can wait anymore. He presses his cock against Mark and waits for a breath, waits until Mark's eyes snap open, locking on his with a heat he's missed, god, _missed so much_. Then Eduardo presses in, one long, slow slide until he's in Mark to the hilt.

They're both frozen, still for a long moment, shaking. Mark's gripping Eduardo's hips in a grip tight enough to bruise, right over where his nails have dug in, and Eduardo spares a fleeting thought on how he's going to explain this to his wife, his sweet, innocent, _clueless_ wife, but then Mark's pushing back against him, squeezing around his cock deliberately, and Eduardo's mind blanks out. He balances himself on his hands, on either side of Mark's shoulders, as he starts moving in slow, rhythmic thrusts. Mark's biting his lips almost bloody, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he shudders.

Eduardo wants to hear Mark's noises, wants to hear Mark crying out to him as openly as he did before. Eduardo also knows that he doesn't deserve it. So he leans down and presses his forehead to Mark's, breathing in his air until they're one cycle of breath. Mark finally opens his eyes, and there's a wealth of words unsaid there, words they've never said to each other, words Eduardo's sure is _definitely_ not going to be said, not now. But he knows those words, because they've always been on the tip of his tongue, desperate to get out until he has to bite down, hard, just to hold them back.

 _I love you. I need you. I miss you._

Mark tilts his head up and Eduardo brings their mouths together, not even kissing, just meeting, pressing against each other, just to be closer than they already are. Mark's cock is hard and leaking between their stomachs, the only friction it's getting is with each thrust of Eduardo's hips sliding the planes of his stomach in a teasing glide of not enough. Shouldn't be enough.

Except Eduardo angles his next thrust in a path he's never forgotten, will never forget, and Mark's breath hisses out, eyes wild and desperate as Eduardo brushes against his prostrate. One hard thrust, two. Rapid and shallow interspersed with deep and hard, his hand gripping Mark's thigh as hard as Mark's gripping his hips, forcing him closer, deeper, harder.

Eduardo feels his balls tighten, the tingle at the base of his spine that tells him he's close. Sweat is beading over his lip, slicking both their bodies so the slide is easier. It makes Eduardo grip harder, but he's sure Mark doesn't mind. He's holding on just as hard. Then Eduardo pulls himself up just enough so he can nip on the thin stretch of skin on the inside of Mark's knee again, and that's it. Mark's back arches off the mattress, head falling back limp as his body jerks with his orgasm. Eduardo's hips stutter, falling out of rhythm with the feel of Mark squeezing around him tight with each pulse of his orgasm, with the fact that Mark came _without touching his cock, Jesus_.

That desperate feeling crashes back into him, harder, when Mark lifts his head to look at Eduardo, sated and pliant and eyes heavy with drowsiness, now. It's a side of Mark he loves above all else, and that's all it takes for him to come, to fill Mark deep inside, marking him in a way he's never had, before. He's never even fucked his wife without a condom, never came inside her the way he does with Mark, and it's that thought that almost breaks him. Because it's Mark that he wants to do that with, just Mark.

And now, it can never be _just Mark_ ever again, and all because he didn't dare tell his father _no_. Eduardo's eyes squeeze shut as he lets himself fall on top of Mark. He feels Mark's arms wrap around him, comforting, wanting. He falls asleep in a tangle of limbs so that he's not sure where he ends and Mark begins. He falls asleep with the thought that he wishes it could always be like this.

* * *

This time, it's Mark who's gone when he wakes up. He's been cleaned up, and he's lying under the covers. The thought that Mark cleaned him up, tucked him in, makes him ache in a way that's becoming familiar. But it's sharper, somehow, especially when he goes to the living room and finds all traces of Mark gone, like he was never there. Eduardo almost thinks that he's dreamed the whole thing, but there are bruises on his hips in the perfect shape of Mark's fingers. They throb satisfyingly when he presses against them, hard, wanting to remember the way Mark's fingers had felt as they dug in.

He resigns himself to never seeing Mark again like that. Resigns himself that one night is the only thing he'll get, as he greets his wife with a smile and a chaste kiss. It's a bigger loss than he expects.

* * *

Eduardo gets a text from a number he doesn't recognize.

 _Dublin, Ireland. 10th February._

The date is a month away, and Eduardo smiles as he traces his fingers over the words on the screen of his iPhone. He doesn't have to ask to know who sent the message. It can only be one person.

He wishes it could be enough, but Eduardo's willing to take anything that he can get. He's pretty sure Mark feels the same way.

He can't wait to wear Mark's bruises on his skin again, can't wait to put his own marks on Mark's skin. It's not a ring, not a certificate that ties them together, but it's all they can get. It's the only thing that they can have to say that they belong to each other, even if it's in a language that no one understands but the two of them.

It has to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Written for [](http://thisissirius.livejournal.com/profile)[**thisissirius**](http://thisissirius.livejournal.com/) as part of the [Five Acts Meme](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/583836.html) for the kinks: _possessiveness_ and _hot spots_.
> 
> 2) So Siri and I were chatting and then I suddenly thought "I want to write a fic where Wardo commits adultery on his wife with Mark, and Mark gets what he can from Wardo". Then this happened.
> 
> 3) Siri is a terrible enabler. I would complain, but it's far too much fun XD


End file.
